The Miserables
by Gedia Kacela
Summary: To save the life of an innocent, he left the Death Eaters. He hoped to find a better life, but he should have known that happiness would be hard to find. Is it better to be miserable than dead? Severus Snape is about to find out. (Chp 10 Up)
1. Prologue

The Miserables  
  
Disclaimer: Again, I own nothing excepting non-canon characters. Sadly, that does not include Snape. And for those of you who didn't know, Alan Rickman is sexy.  
  
Author's Note: To save the life of an innocent, he left the service of the Death Eaters, pursued by the Dark Lord. He hoped to find a better life for both of them, but he should have known that, as an enemy of Voldemort, happiness would be hard to find. Is it better to be miserable than dead? Severus Snape is about to find out.  
  
A slightly AU fic based loosely on Victor Hugo's 'Les Miserables.'  
  
***  
  
-Prologue-  
  
He entered the darkened room a greasy-haired boy of only eighteen, full of hatred and worldly ideals. The door was closed behind him by a masked figure. Was it Lucius? His black eyes glanced around, searching for his blonde friend. But dark robes and white masks hid figures and concealed features. All were identically terrifying.  
  
"Severus Snape." The soft, almost seductive voice drew his attention to the center of the room. Seated on a twisted mockery of a throne was the man many had known as Tom Riddle, but who was now regarded, either fearfully or reverently- more the former than the latter- as Lord Voldemort. Silken black robes flowed over his tall, lithe form, pooling darkly around his feet. His vicious green eyes stared out at the boy. "Come, Severus. Come to me."  
  
His purring voice conjured up the familiar images of power, glory, position, and prestige in the mind of the Hogwarts outcast. The boy's dark eyes flickered blackly as he approached Voldemort. The Dark Lord could give him all he desired, bring his dreams to reality. It would be as easy as stealing from an infant.  
  
He knelt before Voldemort. "My Lord."  
  
"Severus Snape, you have come before me to join the growing ranks of my loyal followers. Are you prepared to accept the duties that come with my Mark and to act according to my purposes until you are taken by Death?"  
  
"I am prepared and willing, my Lord." Head bowed and hair falling across his face, he waited in shivering anticipation as Riddle surveyed him.  
  
"I am satisfied," he pronounced, then turned his head to the side. "Bring me the Brand." A slinking Death Eater brought the desired item, placing it in the Dark Lord's hand. As soon as the metal touched his skin, it began to glow fiercely, both with heat and with powerful Dark Magic.  
  
Voldemort grasped Severus' left arm, turning it so that his palm faced upwards. "May you serve wisely, else you be punished so that you wish you were never born." With that dark promise, he pressed the smoldering brand into the boy's skin.  
  
Severus' last thought was that he was finally making the right choice. Then his body and mind were ravaged by hot, roiling waves of pain and he could not form a coherent thought for several minutes.  
  
When he could, he realized that two Death Eaters were dragging him to his feet from where he had slumped to the ground. A third was pressing his white mask against his skin and covering his limp hair with his hood. He was one of them now.  
  
The Dark Mark, still steaming with heat and burning with magic, was emblazoned on his forearm as a dark testament to his allegiance. It was allegiance he dared not break. The Mark was not only a testament; it was a binding contract.  
  
He had entered the darkened room a greasy-haired boy of only eighteen, full of hatred and worldly ideals. But he left a black-souled man, imprisoned to a lifetime of evil.  
  
And he would not, could not escape.  
  
END PROLOGUE 


	2. I

I.  
  
Six years later...  
  
The child at her breast cried piteously, sensing the tension in the room. Her husband was frantically attempting to ward the house against the impending attack. She bounced on the balls of her feet, trying to soothe the sobbing child.  
  
"Hurry, please," she murmured.  
  
"We still have time, Felicity," he told her curtly, waving his wand about almost recklessly.  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"I just do!" he snapped. "Can't you make her be quiet?"  
  
She didn't answer as tears welled in her eyes and she softly hushed Cecil. But the child would not be comforted. She knew what neither of her parents were willing to voice.  
  
The Death Eaters were coming.  
  
***  
  
There was a hesitant knock on the heavy wooden door. Severus Snape looked up, his black eyes hooded with lack of sleep. Voldemort had kept him most busy the past few weeks. Along with his regular duties of brewing whatever potion He desired, Severus had also been planning raids ever since the last person to hold that position had... displeased the Dark Lord.  
  
He desperately needed rest, but he would rather save his hide. "Come in already, dammit."  
  
A young Death Eater, no older than Severus had been upon entering His service, stepped inside. They kept getting younger and younger, it seemed. Of course, they didn't stay young for long. Voldemort made certain of that. He started them out now killing children, mere innocents. But that was none of his concern.  
  
He brushed his long, lank hair away from his sallow face. "What is it, boy?"  
  
"Should our forces strike tonight?"  
  
Forces... strike... like they were some bloody military, for Merlin's sake! He glanced at a piece of parchment buried under the others. Ah, yes. The Robbins family. Michael Robbins had unwisely divulged information to the Auroras about the identity of one of the Death Eaters. Now he and his family would be forced to pay dearly for that decision. No one opposed Lord Voldemort and got away with it. No one.  
  
"Yes, tonight. Before they can attempt to escape." Not that it would make any difference. But people could be foolish. They could make themselves think that they could hide from the forces of the Death Eaters, that they could actually be safe for one night in their beds. Fools, the lot of them.  
  
"Shall we kill them all?"  
  
He pondered this for a moment. "Bring the woman back first. I'm sure uses will be found for her." He had long since grown used to the Death Eaters' habits of pleasuring themselves by means of the female captives.   
  
Severus himself even took part in such activities from time to time. It wasn't as if he had time to go through the laborious process of courting a decent woman, and this way it was simply easier.  
  
"And the child?"  
  
He waved his hand in dismissal, returning to his work. "Kill it." There would be no purpose for a mere babe here, not even for the most perverted of the Death Eaters.  
  
"Yes sir." The boy hurried off, leaving Severus in peace. Peace... it was amazing how one could get so used to dictating the deaths of strangers.  
  
Better them than him, after all.  
  
***  
  
"Michael... come on."  
  
He shook his head furiously. "They are not destroying this house. This is ours. Ours!"  
  
"It's not worth our lives."  
  
With a growl, he turned to her, his blue eyes holding a fierceness and determination she had never seen before. "I am *not* leaving our memories, our past, to them. Do you understand me?"  
  
She bowed her head. "Yes." Cecil began to whimper again, a foreboding of the raid that was about to crash down on them.  
  
Out of the following silence came a loud, echoing blow to the front door.  
  
She jumped, clutching her child closer. The girl wailed and she shifted positions. The child was really getting to be too big to carry around anymore, but she needed to have her close. "Michael, we have to go."  
  
"No!" he thundered. "I am not letting them destroy this!" She clutched at his coat sleeve, but he pushed her away. "Get to safety. Whatever you do, do not come back for me. Do you hear me?"  
  
She nodded, fresh tears streaming down her face. As her husband ran from the room, she gripped her wand and Apparated from the house, Cecil held close to her body.  
  
The pair reappeared in the middle of the dining room of her cousin Sara's house. Sara and her family were Muggles who did not exactly approve of Felicity's wizarding blood.  
  
But it wasn't as if she had a choice. If she was never to see her child again, she at least wanted her with family.  
  
She pressed the now-sleeping Cecil into her surprised cousin's arms. "Take care of her... please..." And with that she Apparated back to her home. Her husband would not stand alone against the Death Eaters. Not as long as she had breath in her body.  
  
***  
  
Voldemort stalked angrily in front of the woman. "Where is the child? I don't want to ask you again."  
  
She shook her head, a weary motion that was barely noticeable.  
  
The Dark Lord pressed a hand to his forehead. "This is no time to be brave, silly woman. Your husband is dead and you are not far from it. Tell me where the child is, and it may go better for you."  
  
She choked up a mouthful of blood, spitting it out at him. "Never."  
  
I grow weary of you. Keep that in mind." He stalked towards the door, throwing a curse over his shoulder at her. "Crucio."  
  
Voldemort blazed into Snape's office. "I want that child!" he bellowed, green eyes flashing dangerously.  
  
Severus rubbed his forehead. "Forgive me, my Lord, but it is a mere infant."  
  
The dark wizard leaned over Snape's desk, his jagged nails digging into the wood. "Children are dangerous, Severus. Never forget that."  
  
"Yes, my Lord," he murmured.  
  
"That wretched woman will only last so much longer. I want the potion to trace where she Apparated to and I want it by tomorrow. Do you understand me?" he hissed.  
  
"Of course. I will complete it tonight." How he would do that, he did not know. He was still working on discovering all the correct ingredients for the mixture, not even mentioning the fact that he had yet to work out the procedure. What he wouldn't give for a Time Turner at this very moment.  
  
But, Time Turner or not, it would get done, or it would be his neck in exchange. And he wished to avoid that if at all possible.  
  
"You had better do so, Severus. I do not take kindly to failure." As if that wasn't obvious. He set aside the scroll he had been studying as the door slammed shut after Voldemort's departure. Time to get to work. He had a long night ahead.  
  
END CHAPTER ONE  
  
Author's Notes: I don't have much to say besides tons of thanks to Individual-9086 for your wonderful compliments and for reviewing so darn many of my fics. It made me most happy. Thanks again!  
  
By the way, I happen to like the idea of the Death Eaters wearing white masks (see prologue) while on raids and such. *shrug* I saw it in an awesome picture online and the idea kindof stuck with me. Just a fyi. 


	3. II

III.  
  
Around three in the morning, Severus began to wonder if one could become immune to Pepperup Potions. Because he highly suspected that his body was beginning to reject the formula. He yawned and took another swallow. No effect. Just great.  
  
He considered attempting another batch, but opted instead for an energy charm, even though he knew it would leave him more drained later than he was now. But he could afford to sleep later, not now.  
  
After another hour of work, he was fairly sure that he had found the right mixture. There was only one way to be sure, of course. He Apparated to the next room, then back. Grasping the vial in his hand, he took two small sips of the trial potion. "Apparo," he said aloud, with no specific destination. If it worked, it would correctly trace where he had Apparated to and he would end up in the next room. If not, nothing would happen and he planned on jumping out the window.  
  
He held his breath and closed his eyes, feeling the familiar tug in his stomach. Please Merlin, please... Slowly, he cracked open an eye and almost crumpled to the floor. Instead of the clutter of his office, he saw the spotless, empty room next door. "Thank you," he breathed, "Oh thank you..."  
  
He Apparated back to his office on wobbly knees and collapsed into his chair, just wanting to *sleep.* Unfortunately, he had only just recently used another energy charm. His body was exhausted, but his mind was completely alert. He cursed aloud as he stumbled out of the room on stiff limbs.  
  
His aimless wander brought him to the dungeons. He hesitated outside the door before pushing on it to enter. Strange as it was, he wanted to see this woman who he had doomed. He had never seen one of his victims, at least, not since his last raid in his first year of service. Since then he had worked exclusively on potions for Voldemort.  
  
He brushed past the young guard, who started. "No one is allowed in there, sir. She is scheduled to be executed this afternoon."  
  
He turned, glaring. "Do you dare to tell *me* where I am or am not allowed?" He was, after all, one of Voldemort's most distinguished- if you could call them that- servants and was allowed special privileges.  
  
The guard shrunk back. "I'm sorry, sir, I did not recognize you. Forgive me."  
  
"Do not interrupt me," he ordered, pretending that he wanted to use the woman for sexual reasons. He knew for a fact that she had already been used by several before Voldemort began to interrogate her.  
  
"Sir... she is half dead..."  
  
"Well then," he snarled, turning on his heel, "she will not put up much of a fight, will she?"  
  
"N...no sir," he replied, but Severus was already halfway down the hall. He disappeared in a swish of black robes into the occupied room.  
  
The woman lay, as the guard had said, half dead. Magic and physical scars littered her body where it was not shamelessly covered by a tattered blanket, and her once full lips were chapped and bleeding. He could still see traces of her beauty, despite the abuse she had recently suffered.  
  
There was a sudden twinge in his gut that did not stem from anything sexual. This was... disgusting. Voldemort had tortured this woman horribly... and for what? To find a defenseless, innocent child? Should not their time be better spent furthering the Cause, rather than deriving sick pleasures?  
  
The woman stirred and her eyelids fluttered open. She stared at the stranger before her. The fear in her eyes startled him. It was not a blind panic like he had been used to seeing on raids, but was instead a fear that came from knowledge of former suffering. Merlin, what had they done to her?  
  
"I am not going to hurt you," he said softly, in a tone that surprised even himself with its gentleness.  
  
"Please..." she whispered, "don't let them hurt her."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"...Cecil..."  
  
The child. "Your daughter." She nodded slowly, painfully, as if words were too hard to form. He stared at her, the twisting in his stomach growing tighter. He wished it would go away. It was not a pleasant feeling.  
  
"Don't hurt her." Begging, pleading... caring nothing for herself now, only her child. A mother's love... it was something he didn't think he could ever understand.  
  
Still, he took a step forward. "I won't." The words spilled unbidden from his lips, leaving him wondering what made him thing that he could make such promises. Why would he want to even? Was he not soulless? He had been.  
  
The Mark on his arm seemed to burn lightly in reproach of his thoughts. His right hand clutched at the stinking brand through his sleeve.  
  
A soul... maybe his soul had merely been imprisoned, not lost. Maybe the Brand had buried it beneath the pain and darkness.  
  
And maybe this pathetic woman had let in the light... had opened his eyes to what he had always known had gone on... how trite. He snarled at the thought. It was almost sickening. Who was he to become suddenly philosophical? He was a Death Eater, not some mere sinner to be redeemed. He didn't deserve redemption.  
  
But perhaps... perhaps he could earn it.  
  
His dark gaze fell on the woman. "You must trust me."  
  
She stared blankly at him. Trust him... one of them? "Why should I?"  
  
"I..." he realized then that there were no reasons for her trust. None at all. He was a sick, twisted, depraved shell of a man. What reasons could he give? "I do not know."  
  
The woman studied him, her green eyes taking his dark robes, sallow skin, sullen eyes... everything in him reflecting what she had come to fear and loathe. And yet, there was something else. There was a glimmer of hope, some lingering sense of dignity that clung desperately to his lean, too thin frame, like hope in the eyes of a drowning man. There was still a part of him that had not been lost completely.  
  
That tiny part was where her last hope lay. "I trust you."  
  
Those three words were some of the most unexpected in his life. He returned her stare, wondering why any sensible person would put their trust in him. He wanted to swallow the words that lay on the tip of his tongue, to turn and walk coldly back to his office and forget that he had ever laid eyes on the pathetic creature.  
  
But, for some reason, he couldn't.  
  
"Then you must tell me where the child is. There is still time, though very little."  
  
The woman reached for her neck and unclasped the chain she wore from around her neck and held it out to him. "I want you to give this to Cecil..." A locket swung lazily from the chain and he reached for it. As his fist closed on it, her other hand grasped his with a strength he hadn't though she possessed. "Swear to me... on your very soul, that no harm will come to my daughter."  
  
"I have no soul, woman," he growled.  
  
"Yes, you do. We all do... no matter how black they have become. Now swear it."  
  
"I will try my best."  
  
Her grip tightened. "Your best is not good enough for her. Swear."  
  
Still, he hesitated. He was about to throw his life away here. "Give me one reason why I should risk my life for hers."  
  
"Because," her voice trembled. "Because she hasn't even had a chance to sin.... and her purity can save what is left of what you once were."  
  
"And what makes you believe that I was ever sinless?" Her words affected him deeply, but he didn't let it show. He never did.  
  
"Were we not all children, innocent as babes?"  
  
He exhaled slowly, letting go with that breath all ties to Voldemort. "I swear it."  
  
She released his hand, her arm falling to her side in exhaustion from her effort. "Then leave me." Before she could regret it, she revealed her cousin's address, then turned her face away from him.  
  
He turned without further hesitation, tucking the chain deep into one of his pockets. At the door he paused. "What is your name?"  
  
"Why must you know?"  
  
"So that the child will know her mother's name."  
  
She almost smiled. He had passed the test. By asking for her name, he had proven his determination to keep his promise. "Felicity. My name is Felicity. What... what is yours?" She had not known any of their names, only horrid faces and leers and those torturing green eyes of the Dark Lord.  
  
"Severus." He quickly left the room, his heart suddenly hammering with the thought of what he was about to do. He would die if he were caught, and not a painless death either.  
  
But there was no turning back now.  
  
***  
  
He went through his scarce belongings as quickly as he could, gathering several scrolls of notes, magically shrinking them, and stuffing them in his pocket before sliding his wand up the sleeve of his robe.  
  
After scribbling a short list of instructions for use of the potion, he called for a messenger. He sat back in his desk, outwardly calmly studying a roll of parchment. Inwardly, he was falling to pieces.  
  
The door opened and yet another new Death Eater stepped in. "You called?"  
  
He waved towards the vial and instructions. "Take that to Lord Voldemort." Waiting only until the door close, he pulled out his wand and Apparated.  
  
***  
  
A twisted leer spread over Voldemort's face as he read the instructions that Severus had sent. Now they would have the child and his revenge would be complete. There was only one small thing that bothered him- Snape had not brought the potion himself, as he usually did. Snape knew that Voldemort chose to reward him in various ways for his successes. But, the man *had* been quite busy as of late.  
  
"Fetch Severus to the dungeons," he said on the way out the door. Even Severus deserved to see the fruits of his labor. "Is she still alive?" he asked the dungeon guard with a sneer.  
  
"She was when Master Snape paid her a visit just before."  
  
"Severus...?" He had been to see the woman? The Potions Master usually chose not to make use of the tortured victims. He had never been as twisted as the other Death Eaters were. It was a shame that he had lived such a dull life.  
  
He swept toward the cell where Felicity was contained. He could not wait to kill her only child in front of her, right before ending her own miserable life. It would be a pleasure. She smiled up at him as he entered, something she had never done, and for good reason. "You're too late... she is safe now," she breathed, closing her eyes.  
  
At that moment, the messenger returned. "Master Snape is gone," he gasped, "Nowhere on the premises!"  
  
It took only seconds for the information to register. Severus had betrayed him. His face flushed and he let loose a horrible scream, a sound that echoed off the walls. He sprung at Felicity, grabbing and shaking her violently. "Where? WHERE?!"  
  
But she was already dead, the hauntingly peaceful smile frozen forever on her face.  
  
He let her body crumple to the hard ground and whirled to the Death Eaters huddled at the door. "Find him! Now!!" He continued screaming at them long after they had Apparated with the woman's corpse to guide them, per Snape's instructions. Voldemort ravaged the room, throwing the cot and tearing at the walls with his fingernails. "Traitor! Kill him! KILL HIM!"  
  
But he was indeed too late. Severus and the child were gone.  
  
END CHAPTER TWO  
  
Author's Note: Yes, Severus has left the Death Eaters. Drama at it's best... or, something like that. Voldemort's insane... but we all knew that. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing *wink wink nudge nudge*. I am, as Kate says, a review hog. I can't help it- they do wonders for my self esteem.   
  
I'm pathetic. 


	4. III

III.  
  
Severus cringed as his Dark Mark burned angrily on his arm. Voldemort was summoning him back. In truth, he could still go back, still explain his way out of trouble. But his decision had been already made, and he kept flying, clutching the child close to him.  
  
She had fallen asleep shortly after they had left her cousin's house, blissfully innocent that she was most likely an orphan and soon to have no relatives whatsoever. The slight little thing... Cecil... was alone in the world.  
  
As was he.  
  
Perhaps they were not as different as he might have thought.  
  
As he flew over the silent British towns, darkened with sleep, he decided that he did not like being alone. He had been ignored as a child, isolated at Hogwarts, and had been thrust friendless and defenseless into the world upon Graduation. That was why he had joined. Oh, of course there had been the power and glory, but what had driven him was the loneliness.  
  
With the Death Eaters, he had like-minded comrades to act with, even kill with. There was a sense of camaraderie in the raids, in the robes and knives and wands... in the stealth and blood... they were all even physically linked by the Marks on their left arms.  
  
And for a while, that had been enough.  
  
But the constant killing had gotten monotonous, pointless, tiresome even. Lucius enjoyed it, too much in fact. The killing became a sport of sorts for him. The blonde former Slytherin had changed so much since they had joined.  
  
Or maybe he hadn't. Maybe only Severus himself had altered, grown sick of it all, until he was once again isolated, along amongst those he had known so well. They were strangers to him now.  
  
The child let out a contented sigh, trustingly wrapping her small hand around several of his fingers. It was hardly noticeable thing, but to Severus, the action reminded him that he was not truly alone.  
  
They had each other now. In truth, that was all that they had. But somehow, it would be enough.  
  
***  
  
The handsome Death Eater stepped fearlessly into Voldemort's quarters. He knew why he had been called and was ready for his task. It had been long enough in coming. "Yes, my Lord?"  
  
The dark wizard stood framed in the window, his hands clutching angrily at his rich robes. "I want you to find him, Lucius," he hissed. "I want you to find him and make him suffer in ways he never thought possible. I want you to pull off each of his fingernails... slowly, mind you. Then peel off strips of his skin... cut open his stomach and remove every organ you find... and finally, slice into his chest and hold his heart in front of his traitorous eyes so he can watch as you squeeze the life out of him."  
  
Lucius' pale eyes glinted. "I shall enjoy it, my Lord."  
  
Voldemort turned. "I knew you would." He slowly approached until he was centimeters away from Malfoy's face. But Lucius never flinched, even as the wizard's hot breath burned at his eyes. "Do not fail me. I want him dead... so I can hang his miserable corpse on the wall. Then all will know what happens to those who betray me."  
  
His voice was calm, deadly calm, but his eyes burned with green fire that threatened to leap from his irises and enflame all in its path.   
  
"I will find him and return, either with his corpse or dead."  
  
He caressed Lucius' blonde hair with a pale finger. "Let it be the former, my Lucius, and not the latter."  
  
Malfoy bowed deeply to hide his satisfied smile. "As you wish, my Lord." He had finally won. For so long, he had simply loathed Severus. Of course, the idiot had not realized the fact, hadn't seen that Lucius wished him dead. But he had never been able to do anything about that. The slimy git had been Voldemort's favorite for as long as he could remember.  
  
It wasn't fair. Severus was too... decent. He didn't appreciate the killing. And yet, Voldemort had chosen Snape as his favorite- his precious Potions Master.  
  
But finally, he had messed up. Snape had really screwed himself this time by daring to defy the Dark Lord. He had truly fallen from grace, and Lucius was ready to step up and take the place he had vacated. He had paid his dues for far too long. Now it was his turn. And he was certainly not going to make any idiotic mistakes like Severus had.  
  
***  
  
He had to stop for the night. His body was screaming at him for rest and his mind was reeling with exhaustion. Hogsmeade was ahead. He could stop there. Surely by morning they would not have traced him.  
  
At least, that was his hope.  
  
With his hood pulled up for fear of recognition, he carried Cecil inside The Leaky Cauldron. At the door, she stared up at him with deep blue eyes. Merlin, she had her mother's eyes. "What name?" she questioned sleepily.  
  
He hesitated. It would seem suspicious for any man to have a child with him that was not his own, especially these days. "Call me... Daddy." His mouth stumbled over the unfamiliar and awkward words, a tender name that he could not recall ever saying.  
  
Those eyes expanded into blue saucers. "But you not Daddy."  
  
He held her close, that strange twist in his stomach returning once again. "I am now," he whispered into her soft curls of hair. "I am now."  
  
Later, he sat in the darkness, watching as the little girl on the bed slept soundly, the thin material of her dress rising and falling with each breath. Leaning back in his chair, he let out a deep sigh. Every inch of his body *ached.* Sleep tugged naggingly at his eyelids, and eventually he gave in to the darkness that waited to overwhelm him.  
  
// He Apparated outside the quiet Muggle household, careless of whether or not he were seen. He did not have time for subtle caution. Drawing his robes around him, he rapped solidly on the door.  
  
When it opened, he peered out from under his hood. "I need shelter from the cold... I can pay." He patted the pouch at his waist. The woman who had been looking at him with apprehension now smiled, her eyes lighting up at the sound of the jangling coins.  
  
"Of course... come in." Moving aside, she gestured him inside. "Are you hungry?"  
  
He seated himself at the table, slowly lowering his hood. "Yes." She hurried to the stove- one of those curious Muggle creations- and began to ladle the contents of a boiling pot into a deep bowl. What with a new mouth to feed, any extra money would be well appreciated. It wasn't as if she didn't have her own children to feed without her wretched cousin showing up to deposit another squalling babe in her arms.  
  
She set the bowl in from of the stranger. "All I ask is that you give me what you think that good, warm food and a dry, comfortable place to spend the night in is worth. I ask for no more than what you feel I deserve."  
  
He rolled his eyes. Ridiculous woman. He was amazed that Felicity had left her child with the greedy creature. But then again, she had been desperate. All he needed to do was find the child and get the hell out of here before the Death Eaters found him.  
  
From the darkness of the far corner came a soft cry. His black eyes flickered to the sound as the woman swore under her breath. "Your child?" he inquired.  
  
"That horrid thing? Absolutely not!"  
  
Bingo. He rose from the chair and moved silently over to the shadowed corner. There, shivering under a tattered blanket, was a small, brown-haired two-year-old. It had to be Cecil. He bent and scooped the child up into his arms. Immediately, he felt the magic that existed inside the child, the hint of power that already coursed, hidden, through her veins.  
  
And the pathetic thing... forced to sleep on the cold floor like an animal... his lips set into a firm line before he got the chance to wonder where he had found the heart to care about anyone but himself. But before he could dwell on the topic, he turned and moved towards the door.  
  
The woman's eyes widened with realization. "Where the hell do you think you're going? She's mine!"  
  
He whirled, dark power crackling through the air and making him seem even more intimidating than he was. "It is little matter that you are lying, because the child is my responsibility now." He pulled his wand from his sleeve. "Rigor mortis."  
  
He didn't even wait to see her fall from where she stood before he swept out the door. The Death Eaters would kill her anyway- it didn't matter what he did to her. It was not his concern.  
  
Out in the rain, he hugged the child to his chest, feeling a strange connection with her, and drew his cloak around her to shield her from the weather. With a few more seconds, he had Apparated, broom in hand, to a spot a hundred miles from there. Then he climbed on his broom and headed off.  
  
His destination was a place he had sworn up and down that he would never return to. It was a place he had absolutely despised. And yet, here he was, returning after six long, dark years.  
  
He swatted his wet hair away from his eyes and steeled himself. Hogwarts. He was going back. //  
  
END CHAPTER THREE  
  
Notes: I'm incredibly sorry this chapter was so long in coming, but I've been drowing in play practice for the past week. It was positively insane. But thank God, the last performance is tonight... then I will be free to write whenever the mood hits me. Thanks for your patience, dahlings. 


	5. IV

IV.  
  
Long before the sun peeked through the rain-soaked clouds, Severus was already flying towards Hogwarts. Cecil, despite the early hour, was wide awake and babbling with delight on his lap. He was half-afraid she would become too excited and try to climb from his lap, so he kept a firm hold on her with one arm.  
  
It was obvious that she had never flown before, from her sparkling blue eyes and bright smile. Her pure delight was able to turn even Severus' scowl into a small smile.  
  
But as the towers of the wizarding school came ever closer into view, bringing with them the unavoidable task that Severus had hoped never to do. He would have to face Dumbledore and offer what he could in exchange for sanctuary. And in doing that, he would betray everything he had stood for throughout the past six years.  
  
That would, in itself, bring the whole of Voldemort's wrath crashing down upon his shoulders. But hopefully, at Hogwarts... at Hogwarts he would be safe. No, he corrected himself as Cecil pointed out some attraction below them- *they* would be safe.  
  
So he continued on, slightly more confident in their security.  
  
But ahead of them, an enemy lay in wait.  
  
Lucius paced the boundaries of Hogwarts, his wand gripped firmly in hand. Severus would come, he was certain of it. He had known the slimy git far too long to doubt it. Snape would come running back to dear old Dumbledore with that snot-nosed kid he had snatched, pathetic and groveling, ready to swear his allegiance to the 'good side.'  
  
He could almost hear what he'd say. Snape would tell him that he had been tricked into joining the Death Eaters, that he hadn't wanted to, that he had been weak and foolish. He would say that he couldn't take it anymore, couldn't take the murders and blood and immorality. He would lie through his teeth.  
  
Dumbledore would be most pleased, of course. The lost sheep, his prodigal son, would have returned back to the fold. What a reunion.  
  
What that Gryffindor-loving fool of a Headmaster didn't realize was that Severus was nothing but a turncoat and always would be. He was only in as long as it was good for him, then he would turn tail and run. In the words of that ridiculous Muggle expression, the grass was always greener on the other side.  
  
Lucius vaguely wondered how long Severus might last on as a 'good guy.' He wondered how long it would be until his lips itched to say the Unforgivables, how long until he lusted for the sight of blood, how long until he came crawling back to Voldemort, begging for forgiveness.  
  
Too bad the fool would be dead by this time tomorrow. True, he would miss Severus' pathetic ways. But then again, it would be a pleasure to see Snape die.  
  
***  
  
He landed about a mile from the entrance to the school, not wanting to draw any attention to himself whatsoever. He planned on slipping inside and finding Dumbledore and... well, hoping for the best. If he could not save himself, at least the child would be safe.  
  
But Merlin, he didn't want to go to Azkaban. He would kill himself before he let them drag him there. He clutched the child closer involuntarily at the thought.  
  
"Daddy," she whimpered, making him balk at the name, "you're hurting."  
  
He forced himself to relax. "I'm sorry," he said softly, almost inaudibly. With quick, long strides, he began to make his way towards the school. "We're almost there," he murmured, half to himself.  
  
"Where?"  
  
He had forgotten how inquisitive children could be and didn't answer right away. She would not understand where they were going on why they must go there. There were few things that he *could* tell her. "Home. We're almost... home." His voice caught in his throat at the words. Home. Hogwarts was certainly not home to him... never had been and probably never would be.  
  
The answer satisfied Cecil at least, even if it could not soothe his own soul.  
  
There was a sudden rustle of sound to his right and he turned, his wand gripped tightly in his hand. His eyes narrowed when he saw a blonde-haired former Slytherin standing in the shadows.  
  
He drew his cloak more tightly and protectively around Cecil. "Lucius."  
  
"Severus." He stepped forward with a twisted grin. "You've made a big mistake, my friend."  
  
"And I suppose you have come to correct me."  
  
He laughed. "That is where you are wrong. I have come to punish you." He twirled his wand through his fingers. "You swore loyalty to the Dark Lord. Even now in your treachery, you still bear the Mark. You knew the consequences of turning your back on him. You cannot escape from Voldemort, Severus."  
  
"It has been done before."  
  
"Au contraire, my dear Severus, none have escaped with their lives. The only escape for traitors like yourself is through death. All others will be miserable all their days." He took a step forward. "Surely you do not want to live in misery. Let me help you escape, old friend."  
  
Snape held out his wand at arm's length. "I do not recommend that you attempt to challenge me, Lucius. I have always been better than you at dueling."  
  
He shrugged nonchalantly. "I think I'll risk it."  
  
"Suit yourself. I have no problem with killing you."  
  
"The feeling is quite mutual." He stepped out into the clearing. "Up to the challenge, Severus?"  
  
"Absolutely." He carefully set the child down, casting a protective shield around her, then turned back to Lucius. "Are we playing according to rules, or like Death Eaters?"  
  
"Well, I am a Death Eater, am I not?" They began to circle each other, muscles tensed, lips waiting to form the first spell, minds trying to devise what the other would do.  
  
The first curse flew from their lips, almost simultaneously. With the sparks that surged light lightening towards each other, the battle had begun.  
  
END CHAPTER FOUR  
  
Author's Note: I forgot to mention in the last chapter that //'s imply memories, flashbacks, or dreams. Just in case you were wondering.  
  
Thanks to all my reviewers, especially 'my son' Jake. You just remember to listen to your nanny! Thanks also to Azaelian for your awesome reviews and comments. Sorry this wasn't updated as soon as I might have hoped. I'll try to get the next chapter up sooner! 


	6. V

V.  
  
"Crucio!"  
  
"Expelliarmus!"  
  
Lucius' wand flew from his hand, but not before the curse came from his lips. Severus' body was immediately wracked in familiar pain. He struggled to remain standing, to lash out once more at his opponent, but he crumpled to the ground after just a few seconds.  
  
He ground his teeth together as his hands clenched into fists, his nails digging half-moons into his palms. His vision darkened at the edges, and he shut his eyes against the threat of a blackout. But then he could only see red, a painful brightness that burned his retinas.  
  
Forcing his eyes open, he reached for his wand, his hand shaking spasmodically. Before his fingers could close over the slim wood, Lucius' foot stepped down on it. "Oops," he smirked down at Severus, "Were you looking for that?"  
  
He shuddered as he tried to resist the pain that coursed through every single cell of his body. A bloody fool, that was what he was... to even attempt to disarm his opponent first thing was downright idiotic. He should have at least tried to incapacitate him first. Perhaps he *had* been working on potions for too long... he had been away from any actual battle for ages. But still, he should not have made such a blatant, ignorant error.  
  
"Give... Merlin... Give it back, Lucius." Right. Because Malfoy was really just going to decide to take his foot off the wand and hand it back with a cheery smile.  
  
He raised an eyebrow. "Do you really expect me to play fair?" To be truthful, Severus couldn't recall a single time in his life that Lucius had played fair. "I thought we agreed to duel like Death Eaters. Surely you're not backing out now?"  
  
"This is... stretching it," he groaned.  
  
"Oh, I beg to differ. Morbilcorpus." As if on strings, Snape's body rose from the ground under the direction of Malfoy's wand. With a smile tugging wickedly at his lips, Lucius roughly thrust Snape backwards.  
  
Severus flew violently through the air, crashing solidly into a tree trunk. He cringed as he heard his arm snap. Lucius laughed. "Now Severus, that wasn't really that difficult. Losing your touch?"  
  
"Go... to... hell..." he spat out, trying to focus through the stars that blocked half his vision.  
  
He smirked again. "After you." He tossed another Cruciatus at Snape before turning to head towards Cecil.  
  
Despite the burning waves of pain that wracked his body, Snape slowly pulled himself towards his wand, though all he wanted to do was to just lay there and die so that the pain would go away. But he knew that death would certainly not come this easy. And Cecil... Merlin, what was wrong with him? He was more worried about a silly child than his own skin.  
  
He moved softly, gritting his teeth against the pain, careful not to make any noise to attract Lucius' attention. But the blonde was involved in attempting to get past the magical barrier Snape had placed around the child.  
  
Snape clutched the wand with a shaking hand and waited until the effects of the Cruciatus wore off a bit more. Then he waved his wand in a circle. "Incendio."  
  
A burst of flames shot from his wand, drawing a burning circle around the child. Lucius stumbled back, his burnt hand flying to his mouth. He whirled to face Severus, anger flashing in his pale eyes. "Serpensortia!" Several large, hissing snakes erupted from Lucius' wand, making their way towards Snape. Their tongues vibrated from their mouths, practically dripping with venom. "You should like this. You were always the Slytherin, right Severus?"  
  
"You would know, Malfoy. Stupify!" The slithering reptiles froze, stunned for the time being. "Retrudo!" Lucius flew backwards this time, his head connecting solidly with the ground and lolling to the side.  
  
Snape got quickly to his feet and nearly fell over, still unsteady from the effects of the curse. But he hurried towards Cecil, muttering a counter-spell to remove the shield after dispelling the flames. He bent to gather the young girl in his arms, whispering a few soft words to her. Her eyes were wide and frightened, but he couldn't be bothered any further to comfort her now.  
  
He turned towards Hogwarts again, but before he had gone two steps, Lucius' voice cracked out, "Imperio."  
  
It was as if every muscle in Severus' body froze. Bloody hell. Why hadn't he finished Lucius off before retrieving the child? Why, dammit, why? Because he was a bloody stupid fool.  
  
He had experienced the Impervious before, in varying degrees of strength. This was a fairly weak one, due to Lucius' decreasing ability to maintain anything greater, but it was still to great for Snape to overcome.  
  
"Give me the child," Lucius growled softly.  
  
He tried to resist the invisible forces that pulled at his limbs, but slowly he began to advance towards Malfoy. In his arms, Cecil was crying and reaching for him. He struggled desperately to overcome the curse, his mind- the only thing not effected- raced to come to some course of action. Malfoy couldn't get the child, he couldn't let him.  
  
But that thought had little effect on his body. His feet kept moving. Jerkily, yet still moving.  
  
He stopped in front of Lucius, no matter how he tried to keep his feet moving right past the damn git. He forced his fingers to cling to the child, even as his arms ached to give her up. Cecil let out another cry as the tips of his fingers dug into her soft skin, but this time he did not loosen her grip. Better to hurt her now than for her to end up in the possession of the Death Eaters.  
  
"Give her to me, Severus." The order was more forceful this time, and even as he fought the urge, he felt his fingers lose their grip as his muscles relaxed.  
  
"Daddy," whimpered Cecil, her tiny hands clinging desperately to the folds of his robes.  
  
Lucius' triumphant smile mocked him. "How sweet, Severus old boy. She called you her daddy. Good to see she has a replacement for the rotting flesh that was once her father. My men certainly had fun with her parents... death, destruction... the usual." Snape's black eyes burned angrily. Sick bastard. He continued on. "You two certainly must have formed quite a bond. Must be very hard to give her up." He smirked. "Now give her to me."  
  
Of course, Lucius would never be content to just take the child. He had to force Snape to physically give her up. A thousand angry exclamations rose to his lips, but none left. His jaw felt as if it were wired shut.  
  
Snape hated the smirk that leered at him from Malfoy's face. He longed to tear it right off. But all he could do was to slowly and mechanically pry Cecil's fists from his clothing and hand her to Lucius. She erupted into a fit, kicking and flailing, screaming aloud.  
  
If he had possessed the liberty, Severus would have laughed as Cecil's hands hit Lucius in the face and her feet connected with his chest. The Death Eater was not so amused. He turned his wand on Cecil, wanting only to stop the infantile assault on himself. "Petrificus Totalus."  
  
That was the last straw. Fighting everything that kept him powerless, he raised his wand, weakly pointing it at Lucius and skewering all his strength to yell, "Consenesco!"  
  
The burst that leapt from his wand struck the Death Eater hard, greatly sapping his strength. The Impervious lost all power over him.  
  
"Expelliarmus!" he yelled, and the wand was instantly torn from the shocked Malfoy's hand. Shakily, he advanced on Lucius. "Crucio," he whispered after snatching the child from his arms. He removed the curse from Cecil, and she immediately buried her face in his robes, crying softly.  
  
He glared stonily at Malfoy. "I should kill you."  
  
"Then do it," he gasped out around the pain.  
  
Snape's wand pointed at Lucius' heart. The killing curse was on the very tip of his tongue, ready to fly and cut down the Death Eater. It would be so easy, just like all the other times.  
  
But killing Lucius would accomplish nothing. Voldemort would send more after him, no matter what he did or who he killed. Death was nothing to the Dark Lord. There were always more to follow.  
  
"Petrificus Totalus." Lucius' body locked up, freezing the hateful glare onto his face. Snape shook away the feeling that he had made a mistake and drew his robe around Cecil to head towards Hogwarts.  
  
He was back. How ironic Lucius had been there to greet him. However, the battle with Malfoy didn't seem to be a very warm welcome.  
  
But then again, what had he expected? It wasn't as if Dumbledore would announce a grand ball to celebrate his return. But hopefully, he would not send him off to Azkaban either.  
  
He stared up at the entrance to Hogwarts. He would soon find out.  
  
END CHAPTER FIVE  
  
Author's Note: Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I figured I'd better get it out before Mo breaks her computer or something... *grin* Thanks tons to Storm for providing me with a link to find out the names and effects of all the spells. You're always a great help, love! :-) Hope you enjoyed Evil Lucius, as usual!  
  
So I hope you enjoyed your 'quarter pounder with cheese,' Azaelian. Did you want tomatoes with that? ;-) 


	7. VI

VI.  
  
In hardly any time, Severus found one of the old secret passages that led into Hogwarts. Cecil had once again fallen asleep in his arms, worn from her earlier trauma. He gently shifted her to his good arm and muttered, "Ferula." A sling formed around his broken arm, helping to alleviate some of the pressure on the cracked bone.  
  
He made his way along the halls, silently and swiftly, his tattered black robes sweeping along behind him. It was the dead of night, so none of the students were yet awake, so the only ones he need worry about were Filch and his sinister cat, Mrs. Norris, if it were still around. Snape was convinced that the dratted feline was bewitched, because he had never once noticed the cat aging.   
  
He paused outside the Headmaster's office, realizing his dilemma... he didn't know the password. Of course, knowing Dumbledore, it would be something involving candy. "Sugar quills? Blood Pops? Laughing Taffy? Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans?" He felt like an idiot, raking his mind for the name of sweets.  
  
"Actually, my current favorite is a Muggle creation known as Hershey's Kisses." At his words, the guarded entrance slid open to reveal the passageway. Snape whirled so that his back was to the wall, his lank hair flying across his face. In front of him stood Albus Dumbledore, with his pointed white beard and twinkling blue eyes. Snape hated those eyes... they always made him seem like he knew something everyone else didn't. And he usually did. "Severus Snape! What a pleasant surprise!"  
  
"I would hardly call it that, Dumbledore," he growled. "Do not presume to make things what they are not. My being here is neither pleasant... nor a surprise, judging by your uncannily well-timed entrance."  
  
His snappish answer didn't appear to disrupt the Headmaster's cheery mood in the slightest. He started down the passageway, then poked his grey head back out. "Well, do come in, Severus, unless you plan on standing in the hallway all night. And if that is indeed the case, then I really don't see the point of your trying to get into my rooms in the first place... Unless you were simply naming your favorite candies, something I find myself doing more and more frequently in my free time. I find it a rather delightful pastime, if I do say so myself."  
  
Snape stared in disbelief after the swishing blue robes of the Headmaster. Unbelievable. A Death Eater walks into Hogwarts carrying a child that isn't his and all that Dumbledore could do was comment on sweets and invite him inside like an old friend. Perhaps the old gaffer was battier than he had previously thought. Or perhaps Albus really did know more than he let on.  
  
But crazy or not, Dumbledore was his only hope.  
  
Not a very pleasant thought, if you asked him.  
  
But regardless, he followed Albus down the corridor into his office.   
  
There was a roaring fire blazing in the fireplace before Snape even entered. Albus, seated behind his desk, gestured Severus towards a chair. "You knew I was coming," Snape stated sourly.  
  
"What makes you say that?"  
  
Snape raised an eyebrow. "Must I list all the reasons that you already know? Let us not play games, Dumbledore. This is no time for your customary foolishness."  
  
The headmaster's eyes hardened a bit and his mouth straightened into a line. "I do not presume to 'play games,' Severus. I am quite aware of the situation. These are dark times for us all, not merely for those who have just left the less-than-admirable service of Voldemort."  
  
Snape raised his chin defiantly. "We all find our way in the world, as I am sure you know. That path, for some, is not the same one you yourself have taken."  
  
"Well put, Severus, well put. I see you have not lost your pride or your quick and sharp tongue."  
  
"Some of us put our mouths to better use than consuming sweets." Snape met Albus' stare evenly, unwilling to flinch, though he knew that if he kept it up, he would be as good as locked in his cell at Azkaban. Yet, somehow, he kept talking.  
  
Dumbledore sighed, rising from his chair and approaching Severus, who was still holding Cecil awkwardly in his one good arm. He held out his hands. "May I?" Severus gave only a grunt in reply, leaving the response open for interpretation. Dumbledore took it for a yes, of course, and bent, gathering the child in his arms.  
  
It was amazing, really, the way that Albus had with children. He cradled her expertly, whispering softly to her as she woke, her big blue eyes blinking up at him. "Hi," she said shyly. "We home now?"  
  
Dumbledore smiled. "Yes, dearest, you're home." He snapped his fingers, producing a candy cane and handing it to her. Merlin- the man's solution to everything was candy. Snape would bet money that if Dumbledore could, he'd strike Voldemort down with a sugar quill.  
  
That thought produced a very... interesting visual. He almost smiled. Almost.  
  
"I presume the child will be safe here, Dumbledore?"  
  
"But of course. I am happy to provide sanctuary to all who seek it, within reason." Of course. Within reason. Which meant, specifically, no ex-Death Eaters. Especially ones that were being actively hunted by Voldemort.  
  
"Of course," he said coldly, moving to rise. He would expect the Aurors on his tail in a few days, or morel likely, to meet him at the gates as he left Hogwarts, to 'escort' him on his way to Azkaban.  
  
"It is rather a bother," the headmaster said, seemingly half to himself, "that we have just lost our Potions professor. Seems he had a grave reaction to one of his own potions. Pity really, and right before the beginning of the new term. I don't know what I'm to do."  
  
Snape glanced up. What was he getting at? Albus lips were twisted up in a characteristic knowing smile, the very one that Snape despised.  
  
Dumbledore gave a sidelong look to Snape. "Any suggestions, Severus?"  
  
"No, Albus," he growled. 'Get to the damn point,' he wanted to add. He was sick, deathly sick, of the games and jokes. He was much too used to the direct orders, punishments, and meetings that Voldemort had.  
  
There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore began to hum a soft tune that sounded, if Severus' memory served him correctly, like one of the more pleasant versions of the school song. Midway through he paused and looked again at Severus. "If I'm not mistaken... you received quite high marks in Potions, did you not?"  
  
"A perfect score, Albus."  
  
"Yes, yes, I remember now. Very few receive such high marks, especially in Potions."  
  
"It is a very delicate and careful subject. Few truly appreciate it for its worth."  
  
"As you surely did. I was wondering... surely in one so adept at the subject, you wouldn't be quite so skilled as a teacher, would you?"  
  
Snape bristled. He had taught plenty of the Death Eaters how to brew elaborate potions used for torture methods and other wretched purposes. How dare he presume..? "I am quite capable of teaching others, provided that they are not complete and utter idiots, Dumbledore." He realized too late his error.  
  
"Wonderful! Then I can announce that we have found our newest Potions professor."  
  
For the first time in his life, Severus was speechless. Never in a hundred thousand years had he planned on accepting a job as a teacher at Hogwarts. Never. He hated children, hated teaching, hated everything to do with it. "But, Albus..."  
  
The headmaster held up a hand, smiling jovially. "No, no, Severus. No need to thank me." He headed towards the door, pausing to add, "But if you really wanted to thank me, I have found myself in dire need of a decent pair of socks. The holidays will be coming up before you know it! And get that arm looked at by Poppy. She's most excellent at healing bones."  
  
With that, he breezed out of the office, leaving Snape more bewildered than before. He, a former Death Eater, was to be teaching Potions at Hogwarts. Plus, he would have to purchase... socks.  
  
This was proving to be far more... unusual... than he had planned.  
  
END CHAPTER SIX  
  
Author's Notes: Dedicated to Azalian, since she's been looking forward to the Dumbledore conversation. I hope it came out quite alright!  
  
Just wanted to say that seeing HP2 helped immensely on the inspiration for this. *fans self* Too... many... hot... guys...  
  
...and Harry tried to seduce Lucius! *giggles madly* Inside joke with me and Kate... don't ask. Really. Don't. 


	8. VII

VII.  
  
Severus opened the door to his dungeon chambers. He had chosen them over his other options, all of which were elaborate rooms upstairs by the other teachers. Those didn't quite... suit him. And besides, he never truly felt that he deserved such plush surroundings after the things he had done while under Voldemort.  
  
The room was comfortable for him, with grey stone walls bare of all but a few hangings, a stone floor, and a fireplace. Across from the fireplace stood his bed, a mahogany four poster draped with thick green curtains. There was a low couch set in front of the fire layered with a few threadbare pillows, and several bookshelves, overflowing with novels, lined the room. Adjoining the room was the washroom, which consisted of a sink, mirror, toilet, and a very old fashioned bathtub that rested on four clawed metal feet.  
  
Everything was sparse, which is just how he preferred it. And Cecil had taken after him, whether he had wanted her to or not. Since his arrival at Hogwarts with the two-year-old, he had rarely gone anywhere without her.   
  
As a child, while she had still been too young to be left alone, she had toddled around after him as he taught Potions class, clinging with one fist to the bottom of his robes while purposefully sucking the thumb of her other hand. Perhaps it was not the most effective way of teaching a class, but he made it work. The first week or so, the girls tended to stare adoringly at the brown-haired child, neglecting their notes. But he quickly choked that habit by severely docking points for the offending houses. Soon hardly an eye strayed to his tag-along.  
  
He had never been forced to drastically alter his living habits, even with the addition of Cecil. She simply blended into his life with uncanny ease. Her own quarters were as bare as Severus', the walls strung with only a few of the pictures she had scrawled in her colours. She had accepted his ways with the simplicity of how she had accepted the fact that Severus would be her father.  
  
The entire faculty loved the little girl and would slip her candy and presents when they thought that Snape wasn't looking. But he saw as well as he heard the whispered comments about the 'poor child.' They pitied her because of the fact that Severus was the one caring for her. As if he would force her to grow up into some horrible monster. Idiots.  
  
The truth was, he was probably too overly protective of her. He didn't allow her outside without his specific presence there to watch out for her. He lived in constant fear the Lucius would come back and snatch her away from him.  
  
He couldn't let that happen. She was all that he had in the world. Her blue eyes held the fate of his soul, and while they did, he would not burn for his crimes. Just so long as he had her.  
  
And nothing, *nothing* would take her away from him.  
  
He sat down heavily on the couch, waving his wand at the fireplace. Flames immediately leapt up, sending licks of warmth out to caress his weary body. He leaned his head back against the cushions. "Cecil?" he called.  
  
There was a pause, during with the familiar panic shot through him, before he heard her footsteps on the stone. She appeared at the side of the sofa, a tall thin thing of seven. "Yes, Father?"  
  
His black eyes turned to regard her. "I was just seeing where you were. You may go back." She had been playing, probably, and would want to return.  
  
Instead, she crawled up next to him, resting her small head on his shoulder. "You were gone all day," she commented. Normally, he came back to spend time with her between classes, but today Dumbledore had called a staff meeting. He had had more news of Voldemort, news that Severus did not particularly wish to hear.  
  
He wanted to forget that he had ever looked upon Voldemort's face, ever called him 'my Lord,' ever bowed to him, ever wanted to be a part of his dark Cause. But it was impossible, all of it.  
  
Instead, he instinctively wrapped an arm around Cecil, halfway enveloping her in his voluminous robes. "I'm sorry," he responded softly, the firelight reflecting in his inky gaze.  
  
"S'ok." She squirmed away from him, leaping down off the cushions. "Night, Daddy."  
  
"Goodnight," he said absently, still watching the flames. It took him a full two minutes to realize that she was gone. Perhaps they were right. Perhaps he wasn't fit to raise a child. He had a deep fear that she would turn out to be a female version of himself- cold, detached, uncaring, unforgiving... everything that he didn't want her to be. And maybe she would. After all, she tended to take after him too much the way it was.  
  
But what else could he do? He didn't know a better way.  
  
The fire had long since died by the time he roused himself. The small clock sitting on the mantle struck the time. One o'clock. He forced himself to rise, his bones popping back into place as he stretched out his tall frame wearily.  
  
Before going to bed, he cracked the door to Cecil's room open and looked in. The sounds of her even breathing reached his ears, for the moment soothing his previous fears. Out of habit, he cast various wards around her bed, ensuring her safety through the night.  
  
A voice in his head told him that he couldn't protect her forever, that one day she would grow up and have a life of her own. But he immediately crushed the idea. Of course he could protect her. And he would. Nothing and no one would ever hurt her. Not so long as he was around to prevent it.   
  
***  
  
The years passed, as they tended to do, and Cecil grew up before Snape's watchful eyes. He noted everything she did, every Hogwarts student she conversed with, and made specific care to see that she did not associate with any of the Slytherins.  
  
His greatest fear was that he would not be able to control her forever.  
  
That fear was added to one day when he left Hogwarts in search of her. She had been walking the grounds that morning and hadn't come back for lunch. His long, brisk strides brought him towards the gates of Hogwarts. Sure enough, she stood there, her black wizarding robes billowing around her slim figure in the wind, and her brown curls dancing around her head.  
  
He paused, watching her. When had she grown so beautiful? He hadn't really noticed her change in the rush from a bumbling child to a graceful young woman of sixteen. It seemed to have happened in a flash, like a spell had suddenly transfigured the babe to what he saw before him.  
  
He was proud of her, so proud, so thankful that he hadn't somehow scarred her childhood or affected her in some adverse way. Obviously he hadn't, since she had ended up being sorted in Ravenclaw. The moment the Hat had yelled out her house, he had breathed a sigh of relief. It was assurance that she would not turn out like him.  
  
He took another step towards her, hesitant to approach. She seemed lost in another world, her bright eyes gazing past the bars of the gates to... Merlin knows where. Her slim fingers wrapped around the bars and she stood on tiptoe to get a better view.  
  
Clearing his throat, he finally caught her attention. She turned, surprised to find herself being watched. "Oh! Morning."  
  
He fixed his eyes on her, his mouth straightening into a firm line. "Morning? It's past afternoon, Cecil. You missed lunch."  
  
Her hand flew to her mouth. "I'm sorry... I just... lost track of the time."  
  
"For three hours? What on earth could have possibly consumed your attentions for so long?"  
  
She glanced at the ground. "I was just... thinking." She looked back over her shoulder, and this time Severus caught the distinctly wistful look in her eyes.  
  
"About... what? Hopefully about your studies. You know I expect you to be at the top of your class this year."  
  
"Again," she said softly. "Yes, I am aware of your expectations. But..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"It's just... nevermind." She started off for Hogwarts, her arms folded across her chest. He caught her by the wrist.  
  
"Cecil... talk to me." His tone was severe, as it always was, but his eyes spoke otherwise. And she had learned over the years to read those eyes, the eyes that most thought emotionless.  
  
"I've... never been... out there." She gestured to the gates. "Everyone else gets to leave for the holidays and summers. We stay here." She noticed the alarmed look on his face, and though she didn't understand it, knew to amend her statement. "I don't want to live elsewhere, Father, but... I just want to see what it's like."  
  
For a moment, Severus couldn't speak. He swallowed around the lump that rose in his throat and tore his gaze away from her eyes. "We shall see, Cecil." He turned away from her. "Now go inside. You still have classes today, after all."  
  
She stared after him, confused. Why couldn't they leave? What was so bad out there that they must remained locked behind the doors of the school? But she had never questioned Severus in the past, and now was certainly no time to start. She nodded slowly. "Yes, Father."  
  
Snape approached the gates, mirroring Cecil's actions and grasping the bars. He let his cheek rest against the cool metal. "Where are you, Lucius?" he whispered. "Will you come for us the moment we set foot outside these walls? Are you still waiting for me after all these years?"  
  
He received no answer from the woods surrounding Hogwarts, nor did he expect to. A wearied sigh escaped his lips and he turned back to follow Cecil inside.  
  
END CHAPTER SEVEN  
  
Notes: Sort of a random, transitional chapter here, but I managed to slip some plot line in at the end. Not really sure what I think of it. But I just adore the passage about Cecil following Snape around while he taught. I don't know why, I just do... Anyway, more to come!  
  
Oh, and Storm... MEEP! 


	9. VIII

VIII.  
  
It should have been obvious, Severus knew. He should have seen the wanderlust in Cecil's eyes. He had squeezed her life into the Hogwarts grounds for the past fourteen years... why shouldn't she want something more?  
  
But he should have seen it before now, before it had been so blatantly pointed out to him. He was, after all, the one person who supposedly knew her best, the person who had raised her since she was two. He had bloody taken the place of the father and mother he had all but murdered.  
  
So how could he not have seen it in her eyes?  
  
Cecil had not asked him again to leave Hogwarts, but he could now see the question lingering in her eyes, hesitating on her lips, always there but never voiced. He was not accustomed to not giving her what she wanted. It had always been easy for the child to pry some privilege or treat from him with just a request, a simple begging in her blue eyes. It made him realize how weak he really was when it came to her.  
  
So if she asked... he would go. He would leave the quiet safety of Hogwarts and live out in the wizarding world, vulnerable. He would do it for her.  
  
That knowledge didn't make for many peaceful dreams. The nightmares had been growing worse as of late, haunted by Voldemort, and sometimes by Lucius. In his dreams they chased him, hunted him, and he was running, clutching a small child once again. And in the dreams they would corner him and suddenly, Cecil would be walking towards Voldemort... looking up at the twisted Dark Lord and saying 'Daddy.'  
  
Those dreams were the reason he began constantly brewing potions for dreamless sleep. But sleep without dreams was not nearly so restful, which was probably why the circles under his eyes had been growing steadily darker for a straight week.  
  
He'd oh-so-briefly, in a moment of extreme mental abstraction, considered going to Sybil Trelawny for her claimed dream analysis, but had just as quickly decided against it. Trelawny was a bloody fraud, he knew that much. And even if she wasn't, he quickly concluded that he did not want to know what his dreams meant.  
  
And so a month passed in this way, with him waking each morning still exhausted. He lived on his own version of Pepperup Potions- one that did NOT cause your ears to smoke, thank Merlin.  
  
He was slipping, he knew, allowing students in his classes to get away with far more than he had ever allowed while he sat silently at his desk, pretending to mark papers while his mind drifted a million miles away. In fact, he hadn't deducted a single point in a week.  
  
A sigh escaped his lips. This had to end... somehow. But he wasn't quite sure how.  
  
That is until late one night while reading, Dumbledore's head appeared in his fire, the flames licking merrily at his long beard. "Good evening, Severus. I wasn't sure if you would still be awake."  
  
He laid the book down. "I couldn't sleep, Headmaster."  
  
"Good, good... I have some news to share with you, Severus."  
  
Snape studied Dumbledore's face. It was a strange mixture of happiness and sorrow. "News?"  
  
"Yes... would you come up to my office so that we can talk?"  
  
He nodded curtly. "Certainly."  
  
"I'm much obliged. The password is 'woolly knee-highs,' I believe. I'll be seeing you shortly."  
  
The head disappeared at once, and Severus rose, replacing the book on the shelf and checking his customary wards over Cecil before exiting his rooms and making his way swiftly down the corridors. What on earth did Dumbledore want? He rarely called meetings in the middle of the night, and it was nearing two o'clock in the morning. He stifled a yawn as he muttered, "Woolly knee-highs."  
  
***  
  
Snape was a bit surprised to see the entire faculty gathered in Dumbledore's office. He squeezed in the door and took his place in the back corner. Albus noticed him. "Ah, Severus, thank you for joining us on such short notice."  
  
It must have been short notice for the rest of them as well. Minerva's hair was done up in curlers under a hair net, and Binns was still wearing his slippers beneath his robes. Snape nodded to the others in greeting before leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
Dumbledore rubbed his hands together. "Now that we are all here, we can begin. I have great news for all of you... just in from the Minister of Magic himself. However, with the good comes the bad." His blue eyes went from person to person, making eye contact with everyone in the room before continuing. "Voldemort," here several of the teachers cringed, "is, as far as we can tell... dead."  
  
Silence hung thick in the room as the information took a few seconds to digest. Then, it seemed as if everyone was talking at once.  
  
"Dead, you say? Why..."  
  
"...know how? I didn't think he could be..."  
  
"I say, it must have been some bloody powerful magic that done..."  
  
"... quite sure, dead? I don't quite bel..."  
  
"What does this mean? That it's over? I can't quite comprehend..."  
  
"... never thought I'd live to see the..."  
  
Severus and Albus seemed to be the only ones not speaking. Snape's black eyes met Albus' in a silent discourse. Voldemort was dead. That meant that the Death Eaters would have been dispersed... Lucius would be captured or in hiding, which left Severus...   
  
Free.  
  
A rather solid lump formed in his throat. After fourteen years, he wouldn't have to hide anymore... wouldn't have to jump at a flash of blonde hair or a loud noise... wouldn't have to face the nightmares.  
  
He hardly heard as Albus went on to say that the Potters were dead, that Voldemort had died as a result of their infant boy. Nothing else mattered right now.  
  
He was free.  
  
END CHAPTER EIGHT  
  
Note: Sorry this took so darn long. My muse is obstinate and has been rather obsessed with slash. *shakes head* I don't understand her, but I don't even bother to try. As long as she keeps the inspiration coming.  
  
In response to beatrice2005, I'm not really specifically basing my story off of either, though it's probably leaning a little more towards the movie, since I haven't finished the book quite yet. Working on it... but there isn't really much time to read a 1500 page book in the little time I do have. And in reply to your second question, and to Tegan's question, Cecil is quite a bit older than Harry & Co. I was originally going to have them be the same age, but... *shrugs* the story keeps getting a mind of its own. Again, blame my muse, if you want to. 


	10. IX

IX.  
  
It was very late when the meeting dispersed and Dumbledore had answered all of the questions. Severus was the last to leave. Albus glanced up at him, his blue eyes strangely tired. "Yes, Severus?"  
  
He studied the ground for a moment before meeting the headmaster's gaze. "Do you truly believe that he is gone?"  
  
Albus sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I was afraid that you were going to ask that, Severus. Please, sit."   
  
Tensely, Snape allowed himself to sink into one of the chairs, leaning forward with his elbows propped on his knees. "Yes?"  
  
"Voldemort was... is... a powerful wizard. Very powerful. But I do not need to tell you that. What I do need to tell you is that I do not believe that he is, as they say, dead and gone. He is gone for the present at least, and if he is truly alive, he is incredibly weak and unable to so much as return to his *devoted* followers." At his words, Severus cringed slightly. He had been one of those followers previously, and mention of his past still pained him terribly. "The Death Eaters have scattered, pursued closely by the best Ministry Aurors."  
  
Snape froze. "Albus... they will do things to escape punishment. No one wishes to go to Azkaban, after all. They will... give names." All blood drained from his face at the prospect. He himself had been, until his departure, one of the better known among the crowd of Death Eaters. His name would be among those revealed to be Death Eaters. His door would be the one to be burst open by Aurors. He would be among those carted off to Azkaban to rot.  
  
He trembled involuntarily. He had escaped the clutches of Voldemort, only to fall into the hands of the Aurors. Suddenly, he found Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, beside him. The bird nuzzled his arm with its head and looked up at him with deep, insightful eyes. Distractedly, he petted the creature, feeling strange calm suddenly coursing through his body.  
  
"You are correct. The Death Eaters will name names, and do so eagerly rather than face Azkaban. But I can protect you, Severus. I can vouch for your good intentions, prove that you are not a Death Eater."  
  
"But I was." His voice was whisper-soft. "Your claims won't be enough for them, Albus. They'll want me to suffer like those people did... like I made them." He swallowed hard. "I must request my leave."  
  
Dumbledore rose. "Severus, surely not! I assure you that you will be safe here. I cannot protect you if you leave." The black-haired professor only shook his head, solid in his decision. "Cecil need her father, Severus."  
  
He rose as well. "And she will have one. She will be coming with me when I leave."  
  
He could tell that Albus wanted to protest, but if Dumbledore was anything, he was understanding. And he knew that Severus needed to leave, needed to face whatever destiny had in store for them. He had been hiding fifteen years. It had been long enough.  
  
"I know what I'm risking, Albus. But Lucius will also be on the run from the Aurors. Surely he will not take the leisure to hunt me down as well. It's been a long time. I can hope that he has forgotten."  
  
"Sometimes, hope is all we have."  
  
Snape nodded. "And we must cling to it before it vanishes."  
  
Albus extended his hand from behind his desk. "It has been my intense pleasure to work with you, Severus. We all feel the same."  
  
He gave a crooked smile as he gripped the headmaster's hand. "Why do I somehow doubt that?"  
  
He returned the smile "When will you be leaving us?"  
  
"Tomorrow morning, before dawn if possible. Give the others my regards, won't you?"  
  
"Of course." He tilted his head. "I'll find myself hard pressed to find a replacement Potions professor. Are you certain you cannot stay?"  
  
"Not a moment longer."  
  
"Then goodbye, Severus. You will be missed, whether or not you believe it. Give my love to Cecil. She had been an excellent student."  
  
Snape nodded curtly and started to leave. At the door he turned "Thank you, Albus. For everything."  
  
Dumbledore's eyes pierced him. "And thank you. Remember, you will never be unwelcome here, as long as I am headmaster."  
  
"Thank you," he repeated softly, and was gone.  
  
Severus slipped inside his chambers a few minutes later and knocked softly on Cecil's door. It took her a few moments to answer, and when he entered her room she was slowly sitting up in her bed, rubbing her eyes with a hand. She blinked up at him. "Dad?"  
  
"Yes." He summoned a suitcase into the room and laid it on the foot of the bed. "You need to pack. We're leaving in the morning."  
  
A yawn split wide her face. "Leaving? Why?"  
  
"Don't ask questions," he snapped, then softened his tone. "I can't explain it all right now. Just please, do as I say."  
  
She regarded him with large eyes, then nodded, asking no more questions for the remainder of the night and silently packed her things, her life.  
  
***  
  
True to his word, they had left the grounds of Hogwarts before the sun rose and before anyone else, save perhaps for Filch and his cat, were up. He didn't seem notice the slightly saddened look that Cecil gave to the familiar castle as they rode away from it on broomsticks, and she, of course, never said a word of complaint.  
  
It was only on the train later that he realized that perhaps he had been a bit rushed in their departure. Cecil had, wordlessly, fallen asleep. As she slept, faint tears squeezed from beneath her eyelids and rolled down her cheeks. He looked away, ashamed with himself. Why hadn't he allowed her to say goodbye? It was the least that he could have done for her, the very least.  
  
But it was too late now.  
  
He gazed out the window at the rising sun. It wasn't safe to remain at Hogwarts any longer. People knew his name, would know where to find him once one of the captured Death Eaters named him as a follower. He was doing this for her own good... for their own good.  
  
At least... he hoped that was the truth.  
  
He rose from his seat to sit beside Cecil and reached out to brush away her tears. She woke slightly and turned to him, curling against him and resting her head against his chest. "Daddy," she murmured in her sleep. "I want to go home."  
  
He winced at the words. "We are, love, we are." Just... a different home. A home where they would not be found.  
  
A home where neither the Aurors nor Lucius Malfoy would come.  
  
He glanced down at Cecil, her light brown hair falling across her face. How could he explain his reasons, tell her why they had to leave, to start again? He couldn't tell her... not the truth, at least.  
  
And so there would be more lies. What was one more lie to the girl who was not his daughter? It was for her own good.  
  
He would just keep telling himself that.   
  
Then maybe one day he himself would believe it.  
  
***  
  
Notes: This took forever. *sigh* I need to stop writing so many chapter fics. Of course, my muse keeps giving me more ideas. Anyone want to borrow her for a while? Cause she's driving me insane.  
  
Anyway. Thanks to all my reviewers, for putting up with me over the duration of this fic. I greatly appreciate it- you keep me going when I just want to trash this fic.  
  
Look for more soon... well, relatively soon. Whatever. Finals are coming up, so I should probably abandon fic-writing for at least a week so I can study.  
  
School just gets in the way, doesn't it? 


	11. X

X.  
  
Author's Note: As I was reading through the last chapter, I realized I made a mistake in saying that Snape changed his name upon starting his teaching career, for earlier I had said that people would know him if he was named by captured Death Eaters. So I've changed that and taken out the section saying that he changed his name, as errors bug the heck out of me. He'll change his name NOW, of course... Just thought I'd clarify.  
  
***  
  
From the train, the two travelers caught a ride to their final destination, a small manor near Devon. He paid the driver and magicked their things inside. Cecil stood on the walk, staring at the building, while Severus started inside.  
  
Halfway to the house, he turned with an exasperated sigh. "Aren't you coming?"  
  
She turned her gaze on him, her arms folded firmly across her chest. "Why did you tell the driver that your name was Valera?"  
  
He froze, staring back at her. She had heard? He had thought that... well... nevermind. She knew and was suspicious. "Go inside, Cecil."  
  
"No."  
  
His head tilted to the side and he raised an eyebrow. He could not recall a single time before now where she had so directly disobeyed him. It was... unsettling. "Do as I say."  
  
The answer was the same, this time accompanied by a swift shake of her head. "No."  
  
"I never thought you one to be childish, Cecil. There are things that you need not know at the current time. There is no reason for me to be forced the drudgery of explaining an occurrence to you when it is truly none of your concern. You were a child for prying. Do not make me treat you accordingly. Inside."  
  
She stared hard at him, attempting in vain to read those glittering dark eyes. But even in all the years she had been his daughter, she had never quite been able to do that, especially not when he didn't want her to. She debated inwardly what to do. He was hiding something from her, from everyone. There was something about him that he wanted no one to know... not even her.  
  
They had never had an argument before. This was... strange, to say the least. It had taken all of her courage and willpower to stand up to him. Severus was a very overbearing father. While of course he was never cruel to her, it was always very well known that she was not to disobey him. There was something in his voice, an edge, a hint of power, that had always persuaded her to do as she was told and not to argue.  
  
And she never had.  
  
Until now.  
  
She licked her lips, which had become suddenly dry, and averted her gaze from Snape's piercing eyes to the stone path at her feet. She sighed and stepped forward. Perhaps it was best to save that will power for a time when she might need it more.  
  
She walked past Snape, ignoring him completely, and entered the house. Cecil Valera... well, it wasn't horrible, at least.  
  
***  
  
Whatever paranoia had seized Severus Snape at Hogwarts and led him to compulsively flee the school had certainly not released him upon their arrival at Devon. If anything, it multiplied.  
  
While, at Hogwarts he had been overprotective of Cecil, he had never so completely clung to her like he did now. He seldom, if ever, let the young teenager out of his sight for more than a few moments. He continued to instruct her himself, rather than send her away to school. He himself rarely left the house, and of course did not allow her to either.  
  
When they did wander out into the world, he always made certain that her arm was latched through his, and he kept glancing around himself for someone who was never there. A flash of a woman's long blonde hair never ceased to course panic through his veins.  
  
At such times, she was the only one who could calm him, convince him that it was nothing, and gently lead him back home. And once inside the doors, with all the wards securely placed, he would return to normal. His not-quite-smile would come back and he would ask when dinner would be ready. And she would smile back and stride off to find the house-elf, pausing sometimes to watch Severus as he gazed unseeingly into the fire.  
  
He was haunted, it seemed, and utterly miserable. He hid it well, through animated conversation over dinner and a light kiss on her head when he went out for his nightly walk, but it was there. She had never accompanied him on these strolls, which he took in any weather, knowing them to be private... between himself and his inner demons.  
  
The traditional walk was the only time where Cecil was left alone, though he securely warded all the doors and windows before leaving. "It isn't you," he had told her once, the first time he had done it, "it's the world I do not trust."  
  
The world. She rolled her eyes. Always the world. The world was against him; he didn't trust the world. Great Merlin, what had the damned world ever done to him, to force the both of them into hiding away from it?  
  
The remainder of her school year passed like this, with them enclosed in their own private world... just her, Severus, and Tinny the house-elf. However, the summer brought an unexpected treat.  
  
Severus, noticing with guilt that Cecil had become nearly despondent in her seclusion, suddenly proposed a trip to Diagon Alley, claiming that he needed supplies from Flourish and Blotts. When he asked if she wanted to come along, she literally threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around his thin form in an impulsive hug. He looked a bit taken aback by the unprecedented gesture, and patted her back rather awkwardly.  
  
The next day found the two in the midst of the hustle and bustle that was Diagon Alley.  
  
Strangely enough, Cecil had not been there since the summer before her first year. Severus had always gotten her supplies himself from then on, saying that it was 'no trouble.' She had never thought about that before.  
  
She shot a sidelong glance at her father as they walked briskly, arm-in-arm as usual, through the crowded streets. What was he hiding? Was it something to do with her?  
  
He stopped after a bit and looked up. "Ah, here we are." She broke away from him to look inside the window at the books displayed there. He waited a moment, then cleared his throat. "Cecil."  
  
Glancing up, she shook her head. "I'll be right in, Father... I just want to look at this."  
  
She felt his gaze linger on her for several minutes before he acquiesced. "Don't be too long."  
  
"Yes, Father." She waited until he had entered the store to straighten up and look around herself. A sense of freedom tugged at her limbs, now that she was out from under the watchful eyes of Severus. She felt a childish desire to skip down the streets, but instead calmed herself into a slow pace. Her wide, blue eyes took in everything, shops, people, everything. She was free to watch without rebuke for staring, or from being kept close like a toddler prone to wandering.  
  
Diagon Alley seemed brighter, and she found herself wandering further and further away from Flourish and Blotts. She was gazing in a window when she bumped into him. "Oh!" she exclaimed, backing away. "I'm sorry."  
  
She found herself looking at a horrid visage of an old wizard. Sunken eyes stared out at her from beneath bushy eyebrows. There were patches missing from those eyebrows, as well as from the lank hair that fell in a tangled mess over his sneering face. "You should be more careful, little girl," he snarled, advancing on her. "You never know where you might end up if you're not... careful."  
  
She tried to back away, but found that his scrawny hand had leapt out to grab onto her arm. "No, please... I'm sorry... I didn't mean any..."  
  
"Oh, they never mean anything, do they? Always not their fault. Well, perhaps you shall have to learn your lesson for wandering into Knockturn Alley..." She found a sharp wand tip jabbing into her ribs, and was about to scream when another hand clamped down on her shoulder from behind her and a flash of sparks shot from another wand tip, hitting the wizard in the face. He screamed and stumbled away, clutching at his head.  
  
She whirled, relief flooding her. "Oh, Father, I'm so..." Her voice trailed off and she found that she was not facing Severus' elegant black robes, but tattered grey ones. "Oh." She looked up further to see a young boy about her age, with shocking red hair that fell lightly over his face and a crooked smile.  
  
"You okay?" he asked with an easy grin.  
  
She nodded slowly. "Yes, thank you."  
  
He offered his arm to her and she took it gratefully, suddenly very aware of how weak her knees felt. "You must not be from around her. Otherwise you'd know not to go wandering near Knockturn Alley." He grimaced. "Nasty place, that. Shame it has to be so near here." She nodded wordlessly, staring at her feet. "I'm Bill, by the way."  
  
She managed a small smile up at him. "Cecil."  
  
"Pretty name," he commented, nudging her lightly in the side. "And where can I escort you, Miss Cecil. Certainly you didn't come here on your own."  
  
"No... my father's at Flourish and Blotts."  
  
He pointed ahead of them. "I'll have you there in no time." He looked down at her again. "You going to Hogwarts?"  
  
"No. I was but... no."  
  
"Oh." He seemed disappointed. "I'll be going there this year. Me and my brother Charlie. Family just moved here, you know. Was too far to travel to before. I'm rather looking forward to it. We both are."  
  
She forced a smile. Thinking about Hogwarts had seemed to form a large lump in the pit of her stomach. "It's very nice. I... I miss it."  
  
"I bet." He rounded a corner. "Well, here we..."  
  
"WHERE have you been?!" demanded Severus, sweeping towards them, infuriated. His eyes were wide and his face was colorless, save for two spots of pink in the very middle of his cheeks. His hands were clenched into fists as he strode towards them, his black cape billowing behind him. Cecil fought the urge to hide behind Bill.  
  
"I'm sorry, Father," she murmured, but he didn't seem to hear as he grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her close. She could hear his heart beating frantically beneath his layers of clothing, and his hands were shaking as they gripped her.  
  
"You have no *idea* how worried I was! You said you'd be right in, and then I come back and you're gone! Do you know how horrible that was?" He pushed her away slightly and glared down at her. The corners of his mouth were trembling oddly. "Promise me, Cecil... *promise* me that you will never, *ever* do anything like that again."  
  
"Father..."  
  
"PROMISE ME!"  
  
She jerked back, suddenly frightened, and bit back tears. "I promise, Father."  
  
He let out a breath and pulled her close again, hugging her tightly before glaring up at Bill, taking in the long hair, tattered, second-hand robes, and scuffed boots. "Who, may I ask, are you?" His words were laced with venom.  
  
He glanced at Cecil, who was once again staring at her feet, her face flushed. "Bill Weasley, sir." He extended his hand.  
  
Snape pointedly ignored it and instead took Cecil hand and draped it through his arm. "I don't want to see you near my daughter again. Do you understand me?"  
  
Bill nodded stiffly. "I understand."  
  
"Good," he spat.   
  
With that, he stalked away, pulling Cecil along with him. She glanced over her shoulder at the red-haired boy and mouthed, 'Sorry.' He only nodded and watched as the two figures disappeared.  
  
Snape was furious. "I don't know what you thought you were doing, you silly girl, by wandering off like that. Do you have any idea what could have happened to you? I am supposed to protect you, but I find it very difficult to do so when you deliberately throw yourself into the way of trouble. I cannot stress the importance of your constantly staying by me. I'm the only one who can protect you."  
  
"Protect me from what?" She glared back up at him, now equally as angry. He had made fools out of both of them by his little scene back there. There was no reason for him to react like he had done. She was fine, she wasn't hurt. He stared blankly back at her. "Well? Protect me from what?"  
  
"Nothing," he said finally, resuming his brisk pace.  
  
She fought against him, pulling them to a stop again. "No. Tell me. What are you constantly protecting me from? Why do we have to hide, why did we have to change our names? Why in hell did we have to leave all my friends and move to the middle of nowhere?" She wrenched away from him, backing away. "Why are you so afraid?"  
  
He ran a tongue over his lips as he regarded her. "You do not understand."  
  
"Then explain it to me."  
  
"I am trying to protect you from... from scum who would want to hurt you... like..." he closed his eyes and his voice dropped to a whisper, "like the men who killed your mother."  
  
She froze for several minutes. Her mother. Never before had he spoken of her, other than to say that she had been killed by followers of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. She blinked back tears and stepped forward, taking Severus' hand in hers. He had not moved since he had spoken the words, and when he opened his eyes to look down at her, he seemed very old. She squeezed his hand. "Let's go home now, Father."  
  
"Yes," he whispered, his voice seeming very far away, his hand gripping hers. "Yes, let's."  
  
***  
  
They caught a wizarding bus back to Devon, and neither spoke a word as the vehicle flew over the towns below. Both climbed from the bus and Severus leaned rather heavily on Cecil's arm as they walked down the path towards their manor. "I bet Tinny has dinner ready, Father, she said softly, wishing desperately that she knew what was wrong.  
  
Severus nodded and smiled down at her, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm sorry, Cecil..."  
  
She shook her head. "Don't. You don't need to." And with a semblance of new understanding, they entered the house together, the door closing and locking behind them. Neither noticed the tall redheaded boy standing a few meters away, watching them from the shadows.  
  
END CHAPTER TEN  
  
Author's Note: Fifty points to the house of the person who can tell me where I got Snape's new last name from. 


End file.
